I know what she’s thinking - that if she’s lost one person she loves, losing two would break her heart.
“You don’t think Angelo had something to do with it, do you?” Imala asks suddenly.
I turn to her, confused. “What?”
She shrugs. “He doesn’t want to break the bond between you, so he gets rid of the one person who can do that.”
All three of us gape at her. Angelo, while he has his faults, is the most caring, honorable man I’ve ever met. “You’re joking?”
“Not really. Just throwing it out there.” She tosses her silky black hair back from her shoulder and meets my gaze. “You never know.”
I can’t even answer her. Instead, I stand up and head for the door. I slam my feet into my boots and shrug on my coat, not bothering to zip it or put on my gloves. “See you later, Mom,” I call, then head out into the storm before anyone can get to the door to stop me.
If I stay any longer, I am liable to say something to Imala that I’ll regret. She has no right to make that sort of accusation, and she knows it. Why is she being so hateful lately, and what is the deal with her and Jones? Does that have something to do with her attitude?
Another few inches of snow makes my walk home even more difficult than the walk to Mom’s, and by the time I get there I’m mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. I wrap myself in warm clothes, curl up on my bed and fall asleep.
Angelo wakes me up a few hours later. I blink and see that it’s dark out, and also that the electricity is working again. I must have slept for three hours or more, and my groggy head confirms that.
“We found Penley,” he says. He looks exhausted.
I push up out of bed. “What about Rain?”
Angelo shakes his head. “He swears he hasn’t seen her since last night. He says she was coming home.”
“He’s lying.”
Angelo sighs. “Most likely.” He takes my hand. “I made supper,” he says, and leads me downstairs. The table in the dining room is set with plates and big bowls of spaghetti, salad, and steaming garlic bread.
“Where else could she be, Angelo?” I ask as he pulls out my chair and motions for me to sit. I sit, but don’t take my eyes off him until he answers.
“We aren’t sure, but I’ve got men looking on every inch of the island. We know she didn’t leave, so she’ll turn up.”
That reminds me of my scrying trick earlier. “Are you sure she’s still on the island?” I ask.
He nods. “You know she can’t leave without a good reason, and without my knowledge.”
I tell him what I saw in the scrying bowl. He frowns, but doesn’t answer.
“Well?” I ask finally.
“I don’t know, Trinket. Maybe a mistake. Maybe a glimpse at the future?”
“I wasn’t asking it about the future.” I’m fussing, because he can’t tell me what it meant, either, and I know it. I blow out my breath. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated.”
His smile is sweet. “We’ll figure it out, just not tonight.”
“Why not?” I start to ask, but just as I do a loud boom shakes the house and the electricity flickers again.
“The storm is getting worse. It isn’t safe. In another hour or so, Flux has orders to call the men in before we lose someone else.”
As much as Angelo cares for Rain, he won’t send his men out in this weather if there is any chance that they’ll get hurt. It makes sense - he’s more responsible for them than for Rain.
“What about Guthrie Phry?” I ask. “What happened to him?”
“He managed to kill himself with his own potion, if I’m guessing right. We’ll know more when we can analyze the magical content of that bottle he was holding.”
I hadn’t realized that Guthrie was holding a bottle, but then I wasn’t trying to look that close. Still, I remember how positive I’d felt that this was murder, or something like it. “You couldn’t trace the magic?” I ask. Tracing the author of a spell or potion is one of Angelo’s special gifts.
“Sure, but it led right back to Phry. No help there.”
“Oh. Do you think he had something to do with Rain’s disappearance? I mean, her iPod was found in his basement.”
“I just don’t know. The potion was unfamiliar to me.”
I open my mouth to suggest something, but he holds up his hand to stop me. “I’ve already taken a sample to Bilda. She isn’t familiar with it, either.”
“Stop reading my mind.”
“I’ll try.” He picks up our plates and carries them to the kitchen, then comes back for the food.
As I watch him, I think about what Imala said earlier. Surely she’s wrong. Regardless of now Angelo feels about our bond, he wouldn’t hurt someone over it. But then why would he say that Phry had an accident, when I am deeply sure that somebody else was involved?
What if Angelo knew that it wasn’t an accident, but he’s decided to lie to me?
Why would he lie to me, though? What would he gain, unless he did something and needed to cover it up?
A new thought occurred to me, and my fork clattered into my plate before I could catch it. Angelo looked up at me and grinned before going back to his food.
What if Rain did something to Phry?
I shove the thought from my mind. Rain is no more likely to hurt someone than Angelo is, and I feel ashamed for even thinking about it.
“Oh, by the way,” Angelo says, looking up between bites. “I put Glade in charge of the crime scene. He’s thrilled, but scared out of his mind, too.”
“In charge?” I shake my head. “What does that mean?”
“He’s talking to people who are known to come into the store, checking the names on the sales slips, that sort of thing. You should see him - he’s so excited that he’s like a little kid.”
I laugh lightly, in spite of my worries. “Thanks for that. I’m sure you made his day.” At least one of the teens is all right, thankfully. Glade is smart and determined to do a good job, and I know that if it will lead to Rain, he’ll never give up. “Who knows? He might be the one to figure out what’s going on around here.”
Now that I’ve napped and eaten, I’m feeling antsy. I slide a glance Angelo’s way, but he’s clearing the table and paying no attention to me. On a normal night, I’d offer to do the dishes, but tonight I have another plan. I lift my arms over my head and yawn. “I’m still so tired,” I say.
He smiles and leans to drop a kiss onto my forehead. “Go back to bed,” he says. “I’m sure all the excitement must have worn you out today.”
“Mm, thanks. I think I will.” I smile gratefully and head back upstairs, ignoring my body’s urge to stay close to him and return his kisses.
From my bedroom window, all I can see is snow blowing in a gray blur. Thee streetlight below is just a lighter bit of the blur, and I can’t make out anything else. I go to the bed and lay down with my faced turned toward the window, waiting for a break in the storm.
When it comes, I’ll get out my heavy snow gear and go looking for Rain, even if I have to go to the colony and interrogate that Penley boy myself.
When Angelo finds out he’ll be furious, but hopefully he won’t find out until I’m back safe and sound with Rain.
I don’t get my chance until after midnight, and by then there are six inches of fresh snow on the ground. I listen for the sounds that tell me Angelo is settling into bed, and for one single scary moment, when his footsteps pause by my door, I’m afraid that he’ll want to come in and talk. He doesn’t, though, and I hear his bedroom door close at eleven-thirty. Right on time.
I struggle into my heavy clothes, then sneak as quietly as I can down the stairs to the front door. If Angelo catches me now, I’ll have no excuse for wearing these clothes, and he’ll be able to guess exactly what I’m doing.
Then he’ll yell.
Then, knowing Angelo, he’ll have me arrested and guarded until morning.
I don’t breathe until I’m out the front door
, with it locked behind me. When I take my first step off the verandah, my legs sink to the thighs in white drifts and soak my jeans. It will take a long time to get to the colony, if I can make it at all.
I wade forward, my white breath leading the way. Over my head, the clouds are still threatening more snow any minute, and I know I have to hurry. I glance up at the streetlight and pat my pants pocket to be sure my wind-up flashlight is still there. Just in case. The trail that leads to the Colony is dark on a regular night, so I can’t imagine how much worse it’ll be in the midst of a storm like this.
I’m about to find out, though.
When I get to the street, my legs are already tired from forcing through the snow, and the storm is picking up again. Not a lot, not yet. The sidewalk isn’t much clearer than my lawn, but at least the snow in the street isn’t as deep, thanks to Flux and his plow. I speed up a little while I can still see well, hoping that no one is looking out their window as I pass.
Jagged Grove is spread out before me, nestled in white drifts and valleys that twinkle with the few lights still on in town. It’s picturesque, and on any other night I would definitely stop to enjoy the view.
I’m almost at the foot of the hill into town when I hear noise and remember that men are still working on the docks. Crap. I press back against the brick wall of the grocery store and listen closely, leaning carefully forward to see if anyone is looking my direction. The docks are busy, with about twenty people working to clear the snow and ice blocks. Big work lamps light up the water below them and let them see what they’re doing. Voices carry as they call out to each other, and I hear someone - it sounds deep, like a man’s voice - laugh at an unheard joke.
I’ll have to get by them, through the park, and out to the path without being seen. That means sticking to the shadows and taking my time, but if I’m patient I think I can pull it off. The playground equipment will help camouflage me, as will the trees, once I get that far.
I work my way toward the back of the building and look again toward the docks. Then I look to my right and scout my next hiding place - the convenience store owned by Mr. Lotts. A pink neon sign lights the window and the sidewalk in front, but if I go around back, I can skirt it completely. After that, a long expanse of cobblestone and a sidewalk, then I’ll be across the street and at the entrance to the park.
Easy.
I briefly consider just taking my chances and walking down the street, but for all I know Angelo has warned them to keep an eye out for me. I’m pretty slick, but sometimes he surprises me.
OK, all the time. Half the time I’m sure he really can read my mind.
I stay as far back in the shadows as I can and step away from the building, stumbling once because I keep forgetting how heavy these boots are and how thick the tread is, but catching myself at the last minute. I find the barely-there dent of the curb dropping and step down. The parking lot snow is crusty with ice, making it crunch loudly under my feet. I wince with the first couple of steps, then realize that they probably can’t hear me over their own talk and the sound of the ocean smashing against the docks.
As long as nobody looks this way.
A few seconds later, when I’m about a quarter of the way across the expanse, it doesn’t matter if they look this way, because the wind gusts in and swoops down between the buildings, slams between my shoulder blades, and then I land face down in the road with a mouth full of snow.
Wonderful.
I can feel the snow melting under my body and soaking into my jeans and the sleeves of my coat, so I try to get up as fast as I can, only to somehow dig myself deeper instead.
Which turns out to be a good thing, because now I hear voices, and they’re close. Maybe only a few steps away. I stop moving and put my tongue between my teeth to keep them from chattering.
I can’t see who is talking, because I’m face down and my vision is filled with that blue-white sheen of snow in the dark. I know the voice is male, and I feel like I should recognize it, but I don’t. I do recognize the voice that answers, though.
Glade.
Chapter 7
So Angelo’s men are patrolling tonight, even in the storm. I’m not sure why I didn’t believe him, but I’m relieved that he was telling the truth. I lie very, very still, because if Glade catches me, he’ll definitely report straight to Angelo.
A sharp tap on the bottom of my foot startles me, and I realize that one of them almost tripped over me. I mentally push them away, urging them to assume it was just the curb and to keep going. To my surprise - and relief - they do, walking and talking on past me toward the docks.
I wait until I can’t hear them anymore to try getting up again, and this time I manage it, even though my boots are now full of snow and my face is completely frozen. I swat at my clothes, doing the best I can to brush off the frozen snow, and then turn toward the park, suddenly wondering if I’ve lost my mind.
No - Rain is out here somewhere, and I’m scared for her.
“What are you doing?”
I squeal and turn, flinching slightly, and see Glade blocking the lights from the dock. He’s got his hands on his hips, and I’m happy to see that he looks more annoyed than worried. “Just going for a walk.”
“Face down in the snow? That’s like...” He waves his hands. “...The opposite of a walk.” Frustration - at least I think it’s frustration, because it’s still dark - flashes across his angular features, and he leans forward to brush more snow from the front of my coat. I realize I’m shivering. “Tell me what you’re doing, Trinket.”
I can’t help but smile. He sounds so grown up, and so different from the terrified boy who was just trying to protect his fragile sister when we first met. “I’m looking for Rain,” I say quietly. Honestly. If anyone can understand that, it’s him.
He shakes his head. “What do you think I’m doing? Angelo’s got guys all over the island, Trinket. If she’s here, we’ll find her. And if you keep wandering around in this mess, they’ll find you, too.”
I stare at him. “What do you mean...if she’s here? Where else would she be, Glade?”
Before he can answer, a fresh gust of wind, carrying ice like tiny knives, slashes across our faces. We both automatically turn away, and my eyes begin to water.
Glade steps in close to me and takes my arm. “Go home,” he yells into my ear.
I nod, feeling defeated and tired. Instead of letting go, his grip tightens. “I’ll take you.”
Apparently, he doesn’t trust me any more that Angelo does. Also, Angelo isn’t going to miss seeing us when we get back to my house. “Take me to Mom’s, instead,” I yell back. “It’s closer.”
He nods and keeps hold of my arm. We turn back toward town, but the snow is getting bad again, and I can barely see anything beyond the dull glow of the streetlights.
We crunch along in silence, like burglars. I’m angry, but I don’t know why - I know it’s a good thing that Glade caught me, because I could have gotten hurt, or lost, freezing to death between one end of the island and the other, and then I might have been the one missing for a while.
I suppose it’s just anger at myself for feeling so helpless. Rain might be in trouble, and there isn’t one thing I can do about it.
We push through the snow along the sidewalk to Mom’s and Glade lets us inside with his key. I’m trying to be quiet, but he makes enough noise that he could be four men stomping through the house. Mom is up and fussing over us in a few minutes.
“What are you doing?” she says, then disappears into the kitchen before I can come up with an answer. When she comes back, she’s carrying a cup of something steamy and a thermos. She hands the thermos to Glade and waves him back out the door.
He points at me. “Stay put, or I’m telling Angelo.” Then he’s gone, and I resist the urge to stick out my tongue at the back of his head.
“Does that mean he’s not telling Angelo?” I wonder out loud, hopefully.
The cup holds cocoa, and it feels go
od in my hands. I take a sip and burn my tongue.
“Telling him what? Why are you running around in the dark?” Mom asks me. Her face is pink with warm sleep, but her blue eyes are twinkling with curiosity.
“I was looking for Rain.”
Hurt screws up her features and she’s quiet for a few minutes. Finally she says, “What if she doesn’t want to be found?”
I’m not prepared for the pragmatism in her voice, or the note of resignation, either. “She’s not old enough to know what’s best for her.”
“She’s eighteen. You were in college at that age.”
I wince, but she’s right. “So we just...let her go?”
“Do we have a choice?”
“I think we should find her and ask for an explanation, at least.” I’m thinking about her iPod, and worried that something is terribly wrong. I just don’t want to say so out loud. “I mean, we gave her a home and a job - it’s the least she could do.”
Mom laughs. “You think she’s ungrateful.”
“Maybe a little.”
She pats my hand, and when I look, I see a knowing smile on her face. “If you want, we can try scrying again. I’ll help.”
I smile. Mom has always been better at some witchy things than me, and scrying is one of them. “Thank you!” I stand up and give her a tight hug.
“If nothing comes of it, do you promise that you’ll let it go and get some sleep?” she asks.
“I guess.”
“Angelo and Glade are looking for her. They’ll find her, if she wants to be found.” She stands up and turns for the stairs. I follow behind, still clutching my cup full of steamy chocolate goodness.
I know they’re looking, but I feel better now that we’re doing something, too.
“Let’s go,” she says, but before I can answer, a loud pounding on the front door makes us both jump. We look at one another. It’s two in the morning.
“Rain?” I ask hopefully.
She shakes her head, but I already know it isn’t Rain. It’s Angelo.
“Ladies, let me in,” he says.
Addicted Witch: A Jagged Grove Mystery Page 5